TeaCakes
by OneLetteredWonder
Summary: Even after everything, Oliver still loves Arthur more than he can explain. Arthur on the other hand, just can't seem to stand him. Now with everything so close to an end, Oliver decides maybe he should let his love go before it hurts more. 1p x 2p England. Infatuation universe.
1. Meeting Day 1

Oliver swings his legs gently underneath the table, his feet crossed at the ankle. He's doing his golly gosh hardest to not hum aloud. He's just trying to be happy. It's been so long in his opinion since they've had an all country meeting. He loves them. It's so nice to get everyone together and have meetings and talk and just figure things out. It's five days of meetings, a whole week of which he and the others get to spend in the other world. Oh does he love the other world. It's so nice here and the other America is so sweet to let them stay. The trip to and from the worlds make him a little queasy but nothing a quick snack won't fix.

He bites his lip as he almost lets out the first note to a random tune with no name. He draws a few squiggles on his paper and looks up to the speakers. He pouts a little. Oh he really does wish Francois, the France from his world, would smile sometimes. He'd be so much more friendlier if he didn't scowl day in and day out. Oliver is struck with a spike of worry. He honestly hopes Francois is making friends in this world. Oliver taps his pen to his lips. Scowling reminds him of something. He peeks to the nation sitting beside him shyly.

Arthur is leaning over the desk taking notes, glancing up every so often to the Frances speaking on about the monetary issues going around Europe. Oliver represses his urge to sigh like some lovesick schoolboy and watch Arthur. He snaps his head back to his own paper. He admires Arthur a lot truly. His other is strong and smart and always in control. He peeks once more out of the side of his eye. Arthur is glaring at the front of the room. Oliver's smile slips just a little.

He remembers clearly how they all got into this situation. They had been in the middle of a meeting in their own world. Oliver dare say he felt it coming. In the middle of Luciano speaking he felt a deep tremor in his body making him shake. Francois noticed. He almost asked about it, when an explosive sound came from the doorway. The room changed on them, Oliver felt a pulling sensation. The nations around him jumped from their seats. A crowd of people stood in front of them, screaming on their own. Oliver didn't want to fight. He felt on instinct to do so. He had a knife in his hand before he could think.

He remembers staying right by Francois, swiveling around anxiously trying to find his boys. More yelling came and then suddenly everyone froze with Luciano screaming out for everyone to stop. They all backed away from each other instinctively. Oliver let out a sigh of relief at seeing Matt and Al unharmed. He didn't know what he would do if they got hurt. He turned his gaze back to Luciano on a table, a new person next to him, holding the bridge of their nose with a pained expression. Oliver hoped they hadn't been hurt.

"Ah shit," the person said. Oliver cringed. Oh how he hated swearing. He had to hear it enough when he visited Al. The person removed their hand and a few people around him gasped. The person looked like him, vaguely, but his eyes stopped Oliver's breathing with their bold color.

"I have accidentally opened a portal to another world," He said with a grimace. A few people snickered. Oliver gulped. Francois elbowed him. It did nothing to stop his gaze from the person. After saying there are now two of them, Luciano suggested finding their other selves. Oliver didn't listen as Francois tried to bring him a different direction. He weaved through the crowd right to the grumbling man with gorgeous eyes.

"Ugh bollocks," They whispered to themselves, climbing down from the table, and pinching the bridge of their nose once more. Oliver cringed again, letting out a soft displeased moan.

"Oh I really wish you wouldn't swear, it's quite unbecoming." He said with a simple nod of his head. He smiled brightly when the stranger's eyes landed on him. He held out his hand with a bubbly giggle.

"My name is Oliver, it's so nice to meet you," He couldn't stop the smiling. He couldn't. The stranger who looks like him dragged their eyes up and down him judgmentally. Eventually they sighed and shook his hand.

"Arthur," He said plainly. Oliver smiled wider.

"Oh this is so exciting," He said clapping his hands together. Arthur let out an exasperated sigh, putting his face in his hands. Oliver stared wide eyed. Is Arthur okay? He hoped so. He reached out a hand to comfort his new friend when Francois came over with a smiling man who looked better trimmed than Francois ever did in his whole life. Oliver made quick friends with Francis, the other France. He definitely made more of an attempt to talk to him than Francois did that's for sure. Arthur just groaned in pain.

Oliver glances over to Arthur again. He really likes his other half. Then again, there is very little Oliver doesn't like. He has some problems with his own freckles. He rubs unconsciously at his face. There's just something about them that he doesn't entirely like. Arthur's face is freckle free. He shakes his head quickly. Once or twice before he's caught himself thinking it would be better if he acted more like Arthur. He has to love himself dang it. He sighs. There's a huff from besides him.

Oliver jerks in his seat at the noise, turning his head slowly to face his other. Arthur is glaring harder at the front of the room. Oliver smiles sadly, going back to writing his own notes. Every so often drawing a squiggle, and when he feels adventurous a cupcake. Okay, so maybe he more than really likes his other half.

Of course there are times where he can't stand Arthur. The huffy 'gentleman' has a terrible problem with foul language. Oliver tries to block it out the best he can but sometimes he just has to put his foot down and demand money to be put in the jar. Arthur will give him annoyed looks, but he always puts a quarter in to satisfy Oliver's nagging. It's not nearly as much as he should be putting in, but Oliver will let it slide since he did listen.

Right now he's confused more than ever. He loves Arthur, truly and utterly. A big part of him however, is downright furious at his other. During their last round of meetings, Arthur flat out insisted that his son Alfred is the better one between the two Americas. Now that just hadn't been fair. Arthur had already been in a bitter mood that whole week, but that didn't excuse his actions. He hurt Al, Oliver wanted to defend him. Though he may have accidentally made it worse. He started tearing up when Al tried to lunge at Arthur. A small resentful part of him knew Arthur deserved it. He knew Arthur felt he had won that argument. It's not Oliver's fault he can't say his words the right way. He had been so angry that day. Francis knocked sense into both their heads.

Oliver apologized profusely to Al after words. His son deserved every ounce of his love and trying. Al waved it off and said he was used to it, but Oliver still felt bad. He supposes he had that coming. Now though, no matter how many times he tells himself to get over it, he's still angry and upset at Arthur for causing that expression on his precious child. How dare he treat him so unfairly. Oliver is nothing but sweet to his boys and this is the treatment they get in return. It just doesn't sit right in his tummy.

He wishes he could get Arthur to smile. He wishes he could get Arthur to realize he doesn't have to be angry at whatever ails him. He just wants him to be happy. It hurts him to see his other so upset, but he knows he can't do anything. If not for the blatant crude words from Arthur, it's everything else. Oliver wipes at his face to make sure there are no tears coming down. He puffs up his cheeks, mentally telling himself to be strong.

The meeting is called and Oliver instantly begins to hum like he's been wanting to the whole day. It's a small protective measure to keep himself happy. He takes his time packing up, no use wasting a marvelous day with speed. He fumbles with his bow tie just a little, making it look better before he takes his briefcase and heads outside. His face twists up with puzzlement at Francis shoving Arthur his way.

"Hello Arthur, wonderful afternoon yes?" He says once his other half gets closer. His tone isn't fake or forced, he's always genuinely happy to talk to Arthur. He just wishes he could sound upset to show his other how much he's still hurting, not that Arthur would do anything about it. Arthur's eyebrows furrow together with his typical scowl on his face. There's a soft blush on his face. Oliver thinks it's adorable despite his deep seated anger.

"I was wondering," Arthur starts, completely ignoring Oliver's question. The bubbly Englishman doesn't mind. He steps in the direction of the hotel and Arthur walks beside him.

"There's this, restaurant down the street, and-" Arthur cuts off his words with a groan. Oliver blinks at him. Is Arthur okay? He hopes his other half isn't sick. That would be bad new for all of them he's sure.

"Would you like to go and get dinner.. With me?" Arthur still isn't looking at him. He's glaring at ground looking for the world uncomfortable. Oliver's eyes light up.

"Oh I would love to, that'd be so nice. Oh can we?" He asks excitedly letting his true happiness come through. Arthur relaxes, standing up straighter. Oliver thinks he's very handsome. Then he wonders if that's narcissistic. Oh he hopes not. Arthur tells him they should head there in about an hour to get some time to change and relax. He tells Oliver that he will stop by his room so they can walk together. Oliver giggles. Maybe he can talk to Arthur about last time and clear up his feelings.

* * *

The walk to the restaurant is filled with Oliver's chatter. He doesn't mind talking for the both of them. Arthur has a smile wanting to twitch itself into existence, so Oliver figures he must be enjoying himself. At least a little. When they get to the diner Arthur handles all the people and Oliver is giggling beside himself. Arthur is so cool and collected. Oliver can't help it.

Dinner is wonderful in his opinion. The service is sweet and the food is phenomenal though he knows he could probably make it better. There's no harm in splurging and letting others cook for you. Arthur talks very little, his words slightly forced. He does smile at Oliver every so often, so Oliver will overlook his tone earlier that day. Often times Arthur will grumble something incoherent and glare at him. Right now Oliver is over the top smitten with the attitude he is receiving.

It doesn't last long. Dinner turns sour when Oliver brings up the last meetings. Arthur's slight happy moods drops and he stands abruptly, not letting Oliver explain himself or his words or anything really. Oliver stares at the table sadly, wondering what he could possibly do to make Arthur smile again, though a dark part of him thinks it'll never be him to make Arthur smile. He puts his head in his hands and takes a deep breath.

He wants Arthur to be happy, but he knows he needs to talk about his feelings of anger. Bad things tend to happen when he lets his anger sit and fester. He plasters a smile back on his face and exits the diner, paying as he does so. Tomorrow will be better he tells himself. Tomorrow will be better.

* * *

 **AN:** The first chapter to the fifth story in _Infatuation_ , hope you enjoy.

 **Disclaimer:** Hetalia ain't no belong to me


	2. Meeting Day 2

Tomorrow is not better. Oliver scuffs his shoes against the floor trying hard to not take glances at Arthur glaring straight ahead in front of him. It's his fault and he knows it. Bringing up the bad memories even with good intentions seems to have dragged Arthur into a fit. Oliver sighs quietly, barely noticing that it's their turn to talk. He follows Arthur with a fake smile on his face. He schools his voice into a cheerful sound and speaks brightly.

The façade fades quickly. It's hard to keep up appearances when such a frightful thing is on his mind. He glances up at Matt and Al, both are glaring, for reasons he doesn't know, but it helps him smile. He's so proud of them. They both have someone that loves them that are decent and wonderful people and their countries are magnificent. He takes a glance at Francois now. The two have a rocky relationship to say the least but they are there for each other when no one else is. Francois takes a long drag of his cigarette, blowing out the smoke to the air. Oliver mentally chides him for indecency.

He and Arthur take back their seats. Oliver feels better having been able to fully look at those he calls family. They are so important to him. He picks up his pen and tries to take notes, trying to forget the small part of him that wants to yell.

* * *

To say that Arthur is annoyed is an understatement. He narrows his eyes straight ahead, not really paying attention to those speaking. These long meetings are the worst of his country life he's sure. A full week of meetings to deal with incompetent nations. He can handle meetings sure, but these ones? Are the worst. The double meetings always manage to give him a headache before they even happen.

He remembers opening the portal. How could he forget. Alfred, the brat, tempted him into a bout of magic. So Arthur provided. He tried to make a path from their meeting building to another in England so that the trip to and from the meetings could take less time. He miscalculated somewhere. True, an opening did open up in England and in America, but not to the right area. Not to the right dimension.

Seeing his mistake in the face, with pink hair and a cheerful disposition, made him grit his teeth and swear for an hour. How could he be so stupid as to let that child encourage him to do a spell when it clearly hadn't been perfected. Arthur closes his eyes and represses his urge to turn the table over. He's a gentleman despite what others say. He hears a soft sigh from beside him jerking him out of his mental tirade.

Oliver. There's something about him that sets Arthur on edge. It doesn't matter what edge, but Oliver can push him there. Even quicker that Francis can which is nearly impressive. To think that French bastard convinced him to take Oliver to dinner last night. What a joke.

He should have known that Oliver would bring up the fiasco that happened last time. Oliver's America somehow managed to bribe Alfred into a relationship. Arthur had just been looking out for his son's best interests, or so he thought. He glares over at the two of them now all cuddled up with each other. Quiet Matthew no better, holding hands with a neanderthal. Arthur suppresses his urge to hiss aloud.

This had all been his fault, this other dimension, and these other nations. He shouldn't have let his temper get the better of him but he did. Now everyone is inconvenienced by his mistake. Who knows what could have happened if the split joining the two worlds caused actual damage. In the months that followed the initial joining of the two, every country had to make explicit extreme sure that their nations hadn't been affected. He made all their lives unbearable.

Even when a few of them told him that it'd hadn't been the worst thing for them to go through, he still felt responsible and rightfully so. It had been all his fault the rift happened, and on accident too? How irresponsible. Even Oliver, who had the most smiles Arthur had ever seen, managed to not be smiling while the checks happened, even in meetings to follow the man smiled less and less. Arthur felt responsible for that.

With his sons with their other sides, he doesn't know what is going on. It doesn't seem right. He's tried not as hard as he could to tell himself they might be happy like that but he doesn't see how. It's not.. How? How could they be happy? Arthur looks over to Oliver who is doodling a cupcake in his notebook, something typical for him. Arthur gulps and stares a little while longer, ignoring completely the way his heart is lurching in his chest to do something about the smile that is threatening to keep falling on Oliver's face. Yet all he does is go back to staring straight ahead. It's his fault Oliver isn't smiling, and he doesn't want to make that frown worse.

The meeting is called and before Oliver can ask him if he's okay Arthur leaves. He's got more important things to do. He's going to fix this mess.

* * *

Oliver watches Arthur go with a sad smile. He sighs. Maybe letting the hope of loving Arthur enter him had been a bad idea. Francois thought it was for sure. Oliver couldn't help it though. Seeing his sons so happy and even a few others with their other gave him hope like he never dreamed of. Oliver takes a deep breath and smiles to himself. He needs to smile. If not for his own sanity.

* * *

 **AN:** For second chapter, Arthur's point of view~ Hope you enjoyed~

 **Disclaimer:** Hetalia ain't no belong to me.


	3. Meeting Day 3

Oliver makes up his mind to forget the past round of meetings. If he forgets about it, then he can go back to being happy, and Arthur can go back to being decent to him. Or at least as decent as he has been. Oliver sighs and runs a hand through his hair just a little, not to mess up his comb job. Not that it won't get ruined by the end of the day anyway, but anything he can do to keep it in some sort of order.

Fake it. That's what he plans to do, and he will do so for as long as he can.

"Morning deary," Oliver greets his other with a cheery smile. Arthur blinks down at him. It baffles his other to say the least and he lets out a giggle, wiggling closer when Arthur sits to talk more to him. His other is giving him a weird look, something bordering on worry, but nothing he comments on. Arthur goes as far to entertain his questions and Oliver's faking is turning to real happiness. Arthur is being civil. Is he smiling?

Oliver leans his head in his hand and watches Arthur take out his work for the day. He is smiling. The corners of his mouth are twitching up every so often. Oliver feels an odd sense of pride, he's the one who put that smile there this morning and he loves it more than anything. Yes he can just forget about what happened. It will all work out eventually and he just needs to let it happen.

* * *

Arthur is confused. Completely. Oliver is.. Well he's happy, like he always is, but it's almost odd. The past two days Oliver has been on the sad side, still happy, but more melancholy than anything. Today he is over the top and extreme, giggling at everything and doodling odd cupcakes on his notes. Arthur can't help but glance to him every so often just to make sure he is actually seeing this with his own eyes.

It's concerning almost. He can feel it somewhere inside him that it's wrong, that something isn't all right with his other. A part of him wants to let the smile happen. Oliver is allowed to feel whatever emotion he chooses at the current time and yet. It doesn't feel natural. He wants to see Oliver smiling, being one of the few things actually happy in his own life, but, Oliver doesn't really have a reason to smile does he? Not after what Arthur had done to not only his sons, but his life in general. Arthur shakes his head for the umpteenth time.

He glances to Oliver again, a smile twitches it's way onto his face and his chest pounds. He snaps his head back to the front and glares. Whatever he just felt and whatever emotion that may have come with it is pushed down as far as he can manage to get it. It's not logical. He scoffs to himself.

Every so often that will happen. Oliver will make him just a little too confused or make him just a little too happy. He was almost smiling. He deals with these thoughts and feelings in the best possible way. By ignoring they exist and forgetting about them. It has worked so far. It's worked for forty years or so and he will continue to use this method to keep his sanity for as long as he can. He's not the right one to make Oliver smile, and he will not let that hope ruin him in the end.

* * *

When the meeting is called and Arthur is away from him, Oliver lets his smile fall. It almost hurts now to keep his smile on. He shakes his head quickly and puts the expression back up. He needs to keep smiling in these moments. Anything to keep himself in lighter spirits. Arthur looked happy today, and that's what matters. He can deal with everything the world throws at him as long as his other is smiling. That's how it should be. Oliver more often than not sacrificed his happiness to try and let Arthur smile. It works more often than not, so he keeps doing it. He will continue to do it as well, as long Arthur graces him with his presence. Anything for him.

Oliver wipes at his face, a stray tear slipping down. Francois gives him an odd look, one that turns to disgust when Oliver starts chattering cheerfully at him. He'll hide his sadness and his anger and everything else. He just needs to be happy. Maybe then Arthur will be too.

* * *

The room feels like it's spinning, with the candles losing their flames faster and faster with every word uttered from his lips. Arthur can barely see the script written in front of him. He knows the words by heart now since he's the one who made them. It changes nothing about the fact he's reciting them from the book anyway. The very book he used when creating the portals in the first place. The tiny door he created not a few moments before to connect to the other world is shaking in its hold. The semicircle of magic marks he drew on the ground just at the edge of the wall by the opening is glowing green. He furrows his brows as the glow grows bigger and the candles finally all go out. His chanting increases in volume and then violently, the air grows still around him and the wind that he created dies down.

Arthur kneels down to the floor to run his fingers over his drawings of magic circles, they are slightly burned into the carpet. Not ideal flooring for spells, but do well enough. He glares, but with a smile, at the wall where the door he once made is now just a simple sketch on the wall in front of him.

* * *

 **AN:** Hahaha.. haha.. hah.. ah... Hope you enjoy?

 **Disclaimer:** Hetalia ain't no belong to me


	4. Meeting Day 4

Arthur comes to the next meeting smiling and Oliver is nearly fainting at the gorgeousness of it. Arthur rarely ever smiles, and if he does, it's sarcastic and mean and usually followed by foul language that Oliver tries to cure him of. This is a beautiful sight and now Oliver really wants to know what happened to make his love look like that.

"What are you so smiley about?" He asks when Arthur sits down. His smile twitches down for a second then it's right back up to it's position. He gives a smirk Oliver's way, making the ginger haired man quiver in excitement.

"I'm happy to say," Arthur starts, taking his things out of his briefcase then smugly looking to the front of the room. "I have finally managed to close the gates." Oliver's heart drops. He tries his hardest to keep his smile on his face, but it's difficult to do when he's positive he did not hear Arthur right.

"I'm.. I'm sorry?" Oliver asks, leaning just a hint closer to his love. Arthur lets out a triumphant chuckle.

"I managed to create a spell, finally, to close the gates between the two worlds. No more inter-dimensional meetings," Arthur, leans back his chair with an accomplished smirk. Oliver can't keep his own smile on. His expression falls and before he knows it there are tears in his eyes. Arthur can't really be happy about this? Can he?

"What about your boys? Won't they be sad to leave their loves?" Oliver asks, his voice rising with every word. Arthur opens an eye, a quick confused expression making way to give him a skeptical look. He huffs and shakes his head like Oliver is some sort of silly ignorant child.

"They don't really love them. It's all in their heads." Arthur states sitting up straighter now, keeping his voice even. Oliver covers his mouth with his hands. There's no way Arthur is that cruel.

"This is a good thing," Arthur tells him, patting his shoulder like they're _buddies_. Oliver jerks away from him, eyes wide. Arthur blinks curiously at him. This can't be happening. Oliver wipes away the tears coming down his face. He doesn't want his boys's happiness to be taken away. He doesn't want them to be angry and at each other's throats again. He doesn't want Arthur to go away. It's not good. It's not fair.

"Oliver please, this is for-"

"You don't get it!" Oliver shouts, standing from his seat, cutting off Arthur's begging. His chair topples backwards but he keeps his gaze on the green eyes he's come to adore more than anything. He lowers his head and lets the tears run down his cheeks. He doesn't notice the quiet all around them.

"How could you do that?" Oliver asks, barely above a whisper. He sniffles. When Arthur doesn't respond Oliver raises his head to muster up a glare at his love.

"How could you do that to them? To us? To _me_?" Oliver stresses each word. Arthur is still blinking up at him like he has no idea what Oliver could possibly be talking about. Oliver buries his head in his hands. His tears are pouring hotly over his hands and he can't stop them.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur's voice cuts through his emotional turmoil. Oliver freezes. He lowers his hands slowly to gaze at Arthur's face. He can feel the deep anger seething through him. As much as he hates it, and as much as he wishes it would go away it doesn't. His eyes twitches along with the rest of him.

"Do you honestly not get it?" Oliver yells out. He takes one step forward and lurches Arthur out of his seat. He picks up the other by his collar suspending him a foot off the ground. Then Oliver drops him.

"All of us! Every single one of us loves our other and you want to rip that away! How could you!?" Oliver screams down at his love. His breathing is heavy and his skin feels tight on his body. He's never been angry with Arthur this badly before. He scratches at his arms, chanting a mantra in his head to calm down. It doesn't work. He claws at his scalp, begging himself to relax. It doesn't help. Francois comes over and places a hand on his shoulder. In his panic, Oliver twists around and pushes him away, sending the apathetic French man crashing into a table and over the edge.

Oliver doesn't know if it's the puff of smoke that spirals up or the lackluster French curses that spill out of Francois's lips that bring him out of his daze. He covers his mouth with his hands, fresh tears pouring out of his eyes. He glances around to all the nations watching him. He takes a step away, and runs. He tears out of the room as quick as he can. He ruined the meeting and he made Francois be in pain and now for sure Arthur is mad at him. Oh he's ruined it all.

He runs out of the meeting room and back up to the hotel ignoring all the odd looks he receives. He barges into his own little hotel room and curls up in a ball on his bed. He didn't meant to shout. He got carried away. He should have just kept his mouth shut. He shouldn't have said anything. Arthur looked so happy and Oliver ruined his happiness over being selfish. He's such an idiot. How could he do that?

There's a knock at his door and Oliver hides his face even more. He doesn't know who it is but they can come back later. Oliver can't be seen right now. There's another knock. And another. And another. Oliver cringes. He slides out of bed with the blanket over him to open the door. He needs to be polite and apologize to whoever is there. He shouldn't have yelled and he shouldn't have burst out of the meeting like that. He opens the door partially to see Francis there.

"Bonjour Oliver," He says with a soft smile. Oliver stares at him. He shakes his head and remembers his manners and lets the Frenchman in. Francis instantly wraps him up in a hug. It feels so weird to accept the contact. He's so used to Francois pushing him away at every second of the day. He's used to Arthur pushing him away every second of the day. He whimpers and clings to Francis.

"It's okay, it's alright," Francis coos to him. Oliver can't see how he thinks that. He's ruined everything and there is nothing he can do to make it up. Francis guides them to a small couch. Oliver cuddles up against him.

"I'm so sorry," Oliver mumbles out. Francis shushes him and cradles him close. He rocks them back and forth until Oliver's cries are just soft whines.

"You have nothing to be sorry for mon cher," Francis says and kisses the top of his head. Oliver pulls back to wipe his nose on his handkerchief and dabble at his eyes. He must look an awful sight.

"I didn't mean to yell," He admits. Francis laughs and nudges him back into their light embrace.

"If you ask me, Arthur deserved it," Francis shakes his head with a smile on his face. Oliver cringes. He didn't really want to hear that.

"What do I do?" He asks quietly. Francis hums and runs a hand through his hair. Oliver blinks up at him, hoping, pleading that maybe he has the answers. Francis smiles at him.

"I see so much anger and sadness in the world," Francis says, his voice gentle, and pained. Oliver sits up to see him fully. Francis keeps looking to the ground.

"So many people are just going through their days, nothing to look forward to. I believe Arthur is one of those people," Francis smiles at him then. Oliver twiddles with his fingers. As much as he's upset, he worries immensely for Arthur. Living in such a world sounds dreadful.

"I also believe, that you could change that for him," Oliver snaps his head back up to the sparkling eyes of Francis. The Frenchman is regarding him with such a sweet expression that Oliver can't help but smile at it.

"Arthur is so bitter, I think you could bring light into his life," Francis places a hand on Oliver's cheek comfortingly. Oliver places his own hands over the Frenchman's. He giggles beside his mood. Francis kisses the top of his head.

"Francis?" Oliver asks tentatively. He twists the edge of his vest between his fingers. Francis hums in response.

"Do you want the gate to be closed? Do you never want to see Francois again?" Oliver cringes at his own question. Out of all the nations in his world, Francois is probably one of the least Francis would even miss. He sighs. Francis chuckles light heartedly.

"Francois is dark and heartbroken. I want him to be happy," Francis says with a smile. Oliver can see the pain behind it. He can't count how many times Francis has been the one to include Francois in conversation or drag the bitter of the two out to go do something.

"Stay here for the meeting, relax, you won't miss much," Francis tells him. Oliver waves to him as he exits the room with a wink of his eye. Oliver snuggles into the couch, hugging a pillow tight to his body. His eyes feel heavy. It doesn't take long for his body to give into unconsciousness.

* * *

Arthur blinks in confusion at the exit Oliver makes. He didn't know what to expect telling his other self that he found a way to close the doors, but that? That had been something he never expected. This is supposed to be for the good of them all. He was going to announce his discovery later on in the day but now? Arthur doesn't even know if he can form a coherent sentence. No more meetings, and no more.. He doesn't even bother to pick himself off the floor. He runs a hand through his hair when Francois plops himself down next to him.

"You fucked up," Francois says. He takes a drag of his cigarette. Arthur doesn't know if he glares at the Frenchman for his language, his smoking indoors, or just him being next to him. He huffs and glares at the ground, trying to wrap his head around what really just happened. He coughs when Francois blows a puff of smoke at him deliberately.

"I see so much happiness and love in the world," Francois scowls, as if upset by the fact others are happy. Arthur doesn't respond, just glaring at the man beside him. Francois takes another drag of his cigarette.

"Oliver is one of the happiest. I believe only you could ruin that," Francois glares at him from the side of his eyes, grinding his cigarette between his teeth. Arthur is taken aback by the bitter tone. He's never seen this Frenchman anything other than apathetic to existence. To see him riled up is rare. Arthur puffs up his cheeks.

"That's ridiculous." He spits out while a darker, more honest, part of him agrees. Oliver is only ever unhappy near him. He's messed up, he thought closing the worlds would help. Arthur swallows down his urge to breakdown. Francois just shrugs his shoulders. Arthur huffs again.

"What did he mean anyway? That you all love the other?" He doesn't miss the way Francois pauses in bringing his cigarette back to his lips. Francois turns to face him, raising a brow in question, but other than that making no change to his expression.

"You really don't get it. I almost feel sorry for Oliver." Francois rolls his eyes and blows out a puff of smoke. Arthur grits his teeth together. Francois sighs.

"It's exactly as he said. Everyone from our world loves their other from yours." Francois shrugs his shoulders to his answer like it's no big deal. Arthur blinks his eyes incredulously at him. There's no way that can be true. He narrows his eyes.

"You love Francis?" Arthur growls at him, completely disbelieving. Francois scoffs and removes his cigarette from his mouth. He grinds it on the table leg in front of him.

"Francis is a fucker," Francois stands and puts his hands in his pockets with a sigh.

"..and he gives me hope, that someday, love is possible." He kicks Arthur's foot on his way back to his desk. Arthur finally manages to pick himself off the ground and sit back in his seat. He ignores the glares from Al and Matt, ignores the stares from everyone else. The meeting goes slowly. Arthur is lost in thought. He never expected Oliver to get so worked up. He never expected those words. He covers his mouth with a hand. There's no way, no way at all, that Oliver could be right when he said what he did. No matter how hard he tries, he can't ignore the feeling that enters him.

It hurts.

* * *

 **AN:** I promise there is a happy ending. Hope you enjoyed?

 **Disclaimer:** Hetalia ain't no belong to me.


	5. Meeting Day 5

Oliver does his best to swallow his sadness. Oh this is horrible. He swings one of his feet back and forth lazily. It's just a tool to give him something to do at this point. He doesn't want to focus on the meeting and he doesn't want to just leave because that would be rude but. He closes his eyes tight and clenches his teeth. Francis told him he didn't have to go but he felt obligated. He wishes he would have taken the French man's advice. He really wants to be anywhere else than sitting next to Arthur and ignoring him.

After what he did yesterday, Oliver doesn't want to find out what Arthur thinks of him now. He already knew Arthur didn't particularly like him, but now for sure he's going to dislike him. It's a little unfair in his mind but he's not sure how to describe the feeling. He suppresses another sigh.

Arthur wants to close the portal leading to their worlds. He wants to close off all the love and all the potential. He wants to close out Oliver, and that's what hurts the most. He's loved Arthur for such a long time and yet, no matter, Arthur always seemed to want him out of his life. Oliver doesn't even know why. Did he do something wrong? Arthur disliked him even before their spat about their boys. This had to be something else. Something Oliver didn't realize.

What does it matter now? Arthur probably dislikes him more than anything for sure. Oliver focuses on breathing. After the meeting he will talk to Francois. Maybe his long time friend can help him figure out some of his feelings.

* * *

Confusion and anger are the two main emotions Arthur is feeling. Anger because so many people are seeing him in a bad light due to the whole closing the portal business, and that should be a good thing for all of them. And confusion as to why Oliver is taking it the hardest and his words yesterday. Something is burning inside Arthur and he can't figure out what it is. It's something unknown, something he hasn't allowed himself to feel in so long. Something he is going to push down and forget about if he can.

Out of all of them, Arthur thought Oliver might be one of the happiest. Some sick twist of thought made him think Oliver would be happy to go back to the normality of having only his own world to deal with. He just doesn't understand on why he's so sad. What he said yesterday, still turns a knot in Arthur's mind. His new found knowledge and his feelings aren't lining up and it's making him sick. Closing the world link should be good, no one is happy about it, and he wants to crawl into a hole. He isn't happy about the idea either, yet he's convinced himself it's the best solution. This isn't right.

The meeting is called and Arthur drops his head to his hands. His mind hurts, and so does his body. He's mildly surprised when Oliver walks away from him, uncharacteristically not asking him if he's okay. Arthur can feel a part of his chest clenching up. Oliver always asked him if he's doing okay. He scoffs to himself. He's been trying to get Oliver to leave him alone for years and now he suddenly does it? Arthur should be happy and not wondering what the dread in his stomach is for. This is a good thing.

He packs his things up slowly, not really feeling the need to rush. He makes a conscious effort to not think about what just happened when he leaves the meeting room to come face to face with Oliver. The normally cheerful other is not smiling. Arthur raises an eyebrow at him, blaming himself for the lack of happiness, acknowledging Francois behind him a few feet away.

"Oliver, what is-"

"I need to tell you something," He cuts Arthur off. Arthur is baffled. Oliver is out of himself at this moment. Arthur would know. He's had to deal with Oliver more than others because of their.. link. Arthur coughs awkwardly, prompting him to continue. Oliver glances back at Francois who nods his head to push him on. Oliver takes a deep breath, then raises his head to look Arthur right in the eyes.

"I love you," He says. Arthur stares wide eyed at him not knowing what to say in the slightest. After yesterday's fiasco, Arthur had an idea of this, but he never believed it to be true. It just couldn't be. After all that he's put Oliver through, it couldn't be true. He swallows thickly trying his hardest to keep composure while Oliver keeps looking at him and continues on.

"I loved you for so long and-" His words are broken by a soft sob. Arthur can feel a part of him breaking, he just doesn't know which part or why. No, he's choosing not to think about it. Oliver wipes away a tear and smiles sadly.

"I love you Arthur.. I just don't like you." That's what does it. Arthur feels a huff of breath leave him as Oliver walks back to Francois and away from him. It doesn't feel right, what Oliver just said and there's pain inside and he doesn't really want to find out why and it bugs him. Arthur falls back against the wall behind him. He clenches his teeth tight. It's.. It _hurts_.

"Arthur-san?" Arthur jerks violently at the voice next to him. Kiku is giving him a worried look with a very conflicted looking Kuro next to him. The other makes a 'pfft' noise leaning over swiftly to place a sloppy kiss on Kiku's neck and skipping away with a snicker. Kiku covers his face with a hand before smiling up at Arthur.

"Care to join me for tea Arthur-san?" The small one asks. Arthur sighs and nods his head in a daze, following Kiku towards the hotel, and doing his absolute best to ignore any sort of feeling he may be having. Kiku sits him down and makes a nice pot of tea somehow in the tiny hotel room. Then of course, Arthur can't help but express himself over the new relationship Kiku has convinced himself into.

"Kiku you can't honestly be serious?" Arthur says exasperated. He's staring down his small asian nation friend with something akin to bewilderment. Kiku sighs and places his tea cup back down on the table.

"Arthur-san, I assure you. Kuro-kun is.." The Asian nation doesn't finish his sentence. Instead he blushes brightly and turns his head to the side, a small smile creeping onto his face. Arthur huffs and leans back in his chair.

"Kuro-kun is everything I need." Kiku says finally, bringing his tea back to his lips. Arthur groans and drags a hand down his face. Out of all the people he thought would understand his predicament the most, he had been sure Kiku would be the one. His other is insane, loud, and utterly awful. But here Kiku is, smitten.

"How could you.." Arthur mumbles out, but he can't find the words. He doesn't want to be mean to his long time friend, but he doesn't get it. How could someone like another version of themselves? It's preposterous. A certain something crawls through him and Arthur nearly cries out.

"I gave him a chance," Kiku says simply, a small smile on his face. Arthur groans again.

"At first, he was.. Insufferable." Kiku says, a small grimace on his face. Arthur raises an eyebrow at him.

"He told me, bluntly, that he loves me, and wants me to just be happy, and I gave him a chance," Kiku says, now smiling up at Arthur. There's a soft peppering of pink on his cheeks. Arthur whines. What Oliver told him earlier is burning in his mind. It hadn't been like his other to be so unhappy. Actually, with the way it's been for the last few meeting times, he has been horribly unhappy. A small inkling of guilt worms through Arthur. It's all his fault.

Arthur sighs and buries his head in his hands. He didn't want Oliver to be upset, if anything.. No. Arthur wanted him to be the happiest. Closing the worlds was supposed to do that. He chokes back his sobs. It might just be time to admit he has messed up. Just a little bit, it may be time for thinking about he feels exactly, for his other, and if he can actually make him smile again.

* * *

Oliver takes one last glance back towards the hallway where the meeting room is. He's packed up his things and now wrings the strap to his small suitcase in his hands. The rest of the nations from his world are heading back through, heading back to their own countries. He takes a shaky breath in, wondering if this will be the last time he sees this world. Sees this happiness. There are so many ties left open. He drops his head and steps through the portal at last. Maybe it's for the best. With a half hearted tug, he pulls the door to the portal close with a soft click.

* * *

 **AN:** In all honesty, Arthur needed a reality check. I still promise a happy ending. Hope you enjoyed.

 **Disclaimer:** Hetalia ain't no belong to me.


	6. One Week Later

Oliver tries so hard to smile back in his home. Tears keep slipping through his defenses so much that he's stopped trying. He wanders around his home, cleaning random things with blurry eyes. Part of him feels empty. He doesn't know how to feel. Just numb. Yet. Oliver wipes away a tear that managed to trickle down farther than the others. His heart hurts. After all this time he just wanted Arthur to be happy, and he just forgot to take care of himself in the process. At least, that's what Francois says.

"He's a piece of shit Oliver," the Frenchman says from his spot on Oliver's couch. He takes a drag of his cigarette ignoring the way Oliver grimaces. At the foul language or the cigarette Oliver isn't sure what bugs him more. He's mostly just bugged by the fact he doesn't have the energy to rag on Francois because of it.

"Please Francois," Oliver pleads quietly. Just because he's hurt and angry and numb and sad doesn't mean he feels any less for Arthur. He hates it a little, but he does love him. He will continue to love him. It will just take some time to get over him. Francois 'tsks' flicking ashes down. Oliver sighs.

"Why are you here?" He asks. Francois glances up at him lazily. He shrugs.

"Came to cheer you up."

"Well you've done a wonderful job, but please," Oliver wraps his arms around himself. It's not like him to ask a guest to leave so unexpectedly. He really can't entertain today. Everything hurts to much. Francois stands from his seat and walks over to him, backing him against the countertop in the kitchen.

"What?" He says harshly. Oliver can't help the flinch. Francois extinguishes his cigarette in the sink.

"Say it outright Oliver," Francois demands, trapping the ginger to the countertop. Oliver covers his face with his hands. Francois growls and yanks one of his hands away.

"Tell me you don't want this," Francois demands again. Oliver lets his tears come out. He's been holding so much back. Francois tightens his grip on Oliver's wrist.

"Stop it!" Oliver shouts suddenly, surprising himself with his words. Francois narrows his eyes slightly. Oliver gulps and shies away from his glare.

"Say it," Francois pulls at the hand still covering Oliver's face.

"Say what?" Oliver whimpers.

"Tell me you don't want him," Francis presses their foreheads together.

"Francois, I don't-" Oliver cuts off his words. He knows what Francois wants to hear.

"Oliver." Francois jerks at his wrists making him cry harder.

"I love him. I love him so much, please stop," Oliver admits. It hurts. It hurts right down to his core. He wishes he doesn't love Arthur but he does. After all the things Arthur has done and how many people he's hurt he can't help it. Arthur is more than everything he's ever wanted in his life and he just wants him to be happy. Oliver hangs his head, jerking when Francois grips him tighter.

"Stop it," He pleads again, pulling away from the hands on him. They don't stop.

* * *

Arthur sips his tea as calmly as he can. He's already cleaned his house and now he's just waiting for the day to wind down to an end. He's also waiting for Francis to get the fuck out of his house.

"Why do you live here anyway? It's such a big place," Francis brings a hand to his chin to rub it semi-sophisticated, looking at the house with an artist's eye. Arthur grits his teeth.

"Francis," He says curtly. The flamboyant of the two spins with a smile to face him. Arthur glares up at him.

"Sod off why don't you?" Arthur tells him with a forced smile. Francis laughs lightly like a wind chime and flops down into a chair across from Arthur just to make him more mad.

"What else are you going to do today hmm mon ami?" Arthur can feel himself twitch at the use of French in his homeland. Cheeky bastard.

"I'm not sure, but it doesn't concern you. Why are you here anyway?" Arthur puts down his teacup to the side so he doesn't end up throwing it at Francis instead. He's been in a rut of thought for the past few days and this conversation isn't helping any. Francis smirks at him and leans back in the chair he's claimed for the moment.

"I've come to ask about that spell you said you made," Francis doesn't beat around the bush. Arthur can feel himself glaring harder. His spell does not concern Francis in the slightest.

"Please don't use it," Francis continues on. Arthur raises an eyebrow at him. Francis never asks him for things, their past fighting history making it a little hard for them to stand each other for more than a few minutes.

"Why shouldn't I?" Arthur challenges him. He's got half a mind to use it right now and seal off the portals without anyone really knowing if not only to spite Francis on the spot. Though, knowing what happened last time he tried to show off, he won't do that for fear of opening another portal. Besides, he knows he's not ready to cut off ties with a certain ginger.

"I think, you're embarrassed that you made such a huge mistake that won't go away," Francis leans his head on his hands, openly smirking at the fury quickly coming to Arthur's face.

"I think you should leave," Arthur counters lamely. He stands and takes his cup to the sink if not only to give him something to do. He groans silently when Francis follows him to lean against the entryway to the kitchen.

"I think you're just angry that this is all your fault." Arthur grits his teeth, trying so hard to not throw something to get his smirk off his face.

"You're doing a mighty fine job of convincing me that I shouldn't close that portal," Arthur glares over his shoulder. Francis chuckles, shaking his head and stepping closer despite the way Arthur bristles to his actions.

"You're so desperate to rid yourself of your blunder that you won't notice the good that's right in front of you." Arthur rests against the counter with his arms crossed to glare at the intruder to his household. He raises an eyebrow to the accusation, hating, absolutely loathing the part of him that knows this French bastard is right. For so long he tried to hate Oliver, because that was his mistake. He tried to show off and look how it ended. Biggest flub he's ever had, and he doesn't want to admit it's a good thing. Francis scoffs lightheartedly.

"Oliver?" He says as if to jog Arthur's memory. Arthur flinches at the name. He hurt Oliver and he's actually been trying to forget it. It hasn't been working. Oliver cried because of him. The guilt is coming back to hit Arthur in the gut.

"He loves you and you need to suck it up you like him too," Francis puts his hands on his hips and scolds him. Arthur huffs. He knows he needs to just suck it up. He just doesn't know if he can.

"Why don't you just admit it?" Francis challenges him, causing Arthur to actually hiss at him. The anger doesn't last long as he actually deflates and hides his face in his hands. After so long of denying and forgetting it on purpose and bringing himself down over being the one to not make Oliver smile. How could he say such a thing? It would just make everything worse.

But damn it.

Arthur doesn't say it out loud, bluntly afraid of the words, but he mouths them out. _I love him_. He shudders at the way it feels. He grits his teeth and wipes away the beginnings of a tear. He hears Francis sigh.

"You know," Francis says dragging his fingers across the wall. Arthur turns his glare to the intruder. He really wants Francis to take his pansy ass out of his house. Francis just smirks at the dark look.

"You might want to go get him before someone else does, say, other me?" Francis winks and exits. Arthur stares dumbfounded at the space he just occupied. He runs his hands through his hair and bites his lip and groans aloud. He meanders around his kitchen for a little while longer, stalling what he knows he wants to do, maybe, just maybe what he _should_ do. It takes effort but he manages to get himself in front of a door that appeared years ago. A door that showed up when he showed off his magic and made a magic portal to another dimension accidentally. A door that links his home to Oliver's. He swallows his ego and his fear. Francis's words are echoing in his head.

He's had too much pride to admit he's wrong and been too bitter about his actions he couldn't see. He hates to admit it, but Francis is right. He's been too in his own head to notice. He curses and places a hand on the doorknob. He needs to apologize to Oliver before he ruins something more. He's been so unhappy for so long and Oliver just wanted to see him smile all the time. He never stopped trying for him. It's his turn to try for Oliver. To really try, and not think what might be right, but just for what Oliver wants. He takes a deep breath and turns the handle.

Oliver's house in it's entirety can only be described one way. Pink. Arthur nearly grimaces upon seeing it. He puts a hand to his head to relieve himself of the woozy feeling coming from having to cross from his world to this one. He feels a chill run up his spine, like he's not supposed to be there. The sky outside is a light purple making the house seem more like a cupcake than probably normal. Arthur glances about himself. It's inside setup is similar to his own. He leaves the room in the upper corner of the house to go downstairs. A few pictures line the halls, of Al and Matt with bloody noses and smiles in their childhood. There's a few of Oliver and Francois, and even a few of the boys in their older age. Arthur shakes his head and walks down stairs.

"I love him. I love him so much, please stop,"Arthur freezes on the steps at Oliver's panicked voice. He fills with dread, half debating to leave since he shouldn't enter someone's house uninvited. Instead of being smart he takes another step. His heart drops seeing Oliver pinned against his countertop with Francois over him. A small something snaps inside him. Oliver cries out for Francois to stop once more, and when he doesn't Arthur strides forward.

He probably shouldn't have done it, breaking some sort of inter-dimensional treaty somewhere most likely, but he taps Francois on the shoulder politely, then promptly punches him in the face. Francois reels back, glaring, and rubbing at his cheek. Arthur wraps Oliver close to him, tucking his head under his chin to hold him tight. He glares at Francois until he pulls himself together and leaves. Arthur continues glaring until he can't see the apathetic Frenchman out of the window anymore.

"Shh poppet it's okay," He coos, running a hand gently through Oliver's hair as he cries. Mostly out of fright. He hadn't expected Francois to do what he did. It scared him more than anything and now his emotions are all over with Arthur next him. Arthur just holds him tight.

* * *

"How did you get here?" Oliver asks shyly. They are sitting on his couch now, tea in Arthur's hands and overloaded with cream and sugar coffee in Oliver's. Arthur huffs and runs a hand through his hair. Oliver wiggles closer to him to feel comfort, feeling a small bubble of happiness when Arthur leans closer to him as well.

"Door in my home leads to one in yours," Arthur shrugs simply, talking in quieter tones just like Oliver even though there is no reason for them to do so. Oliver nods his head having no idea what else to do. He grips his cup and starts talking the same time Arthur does.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"I needed to talk to you I-" They both cut off. Arthur blinks at him and Oliver can't help but giggle softly. The noise brings a soft smile to Arthur's face. Damn that French man for being right, but it's high time he allowed himself to be happy.

"Oliver," Arthur puts his cup down and kneels down in front of Oliver to look up at him. It's a little dramatic but it feels right for this moment. Oliver puts his cup down to not spill it from his shaking hands. Arthur holds them tightly to get them to stop moving, giving little squeezes of reassurance.

"I'm sorry," He says. Oliver's eyes go wide at his words. Arthur smiles at him.

"You've done so much for me and I've been nothing but horrid to you. You deserve so much better than that," Arthur says. He rubs his thumb over Oliver's hands. He takes a deep breath, the truth of what he should have let himself feel from the first few years spilling out.

"Oliver you are amazing and I'm.. I'm sorry I didn't see that sooner." He continues. He reaches up a hand to wipe away the tears slipping down Oliver's shocked face.

"I've been pushing back my feelings because I was just so angry at what I had done, and that's no excuse, but I'm sorry," Arthur blinks his eyes hard, his own frustrated tears threatening to come down his face. He's been holding back for so long, it nearly hurts to say it now. Oliver presses their foreheads together.

"You deserve better, and I'd understand if you didn't really want to talk to me anymore," Arthur tells him gently. Oliver shakes his head to the words, now wrapping Arthur into an awkward bent over hug. Arthur tentatively returns the embrace.

"You're all I've wanted," Oliver says. Arthur pushes himself up to sit next to Oliver again on the couch, cradling his other in his arms like his forbidden daydreams have been longing to do for ages. Oliver buries his head in Arthur's chest happily.

"Arthur I-" Oliver's words are cut short by his own sobs. Arthur leans down to kiss his head and runs a hand through his hair trying to soothe him. It works little. Oliver's quick tears stopping and slowing to a halt.

"I'm sorry," Oliver says quietly trying to wipe his face. Arthur beats him to it, dragging his thumbs gently across his other's cheeks. He leans his forehead down to his.

"It's only me who should be apologizing. My pride got in the way of.. everything." Arthur says. Oliver just smiles up at him a little sadly. They sway back and forth in Oliver's living room, just being with each other when Arthur starts to feel sick to his stomach and needs to return to his own world. Not before kissing Oliver's hand, bidding him goodnight, and saying what he should have years upon years ago.

"I love you," Arthur whispers into Oliver's hair, pulling back and slipping into his own world. Oliver stares dumbfounded after him, then his face splits into a wondrous smile.

* * *

 **AN:** -throws sparkles- Hope this was worth the wait, hope you enjoy~

 **Disclaimer:** Hetalia ain't no belong to me.


	7. Afternoon Tea

Arthur twists his hands together in what can be considered nerves. His kettle is heated and the tea taste sublime in his opinion and yet he feels the butterflies in his stomach, something he has scarcely allowed himself to feel before. It's an unpleasant feeling and he knows exactly why he has never let himself feel it before. It's annoying. He trudges upstairs and paces in the hallway. Oliver said he would bring tea cakes. Damn Oliver and his good cooking skills.

He hears a door open and a squeak that is unmistakable. He rounds into the doorway to see Oliver holding his head with one hand and a basket hooked around his other arm. He smiles brightly when he's got his head together and he sends that smile Arthur's way and Arthur can't help but smile gently back. Oliver skips over to him and wraps him in a hug. At first Arthur stiffens then puts an arm around him in an awkward sort of hug, though Oliver doesn't seem to mind.

"Oh you're home is so much more woodland like than mine!" Oliver exclaims, running his fingers across the cream colored wall. He pauses so often to look at pictures Arthur has hanging up, giggling at them and smiling like a fool when Arthur indulges and tells him about the circumstances they were taken in.

The kettle whistles and they make their way towards the kitchen. Oliver takes his time, humming to himself about nothing in particular as he organizes his treats on tiny dishes in a delicate display. Arthur is quite amazed actually, seeing all the colors and confections Oliver has managed to create along with tiny sandwiches of all sorts. He pours the tea happily.

"Oh Arthur it's amazing," Oliver muses aloud taking another delicate sip of his cooling tea. Arthur smiles beside himself, enjoying the compliment sent his way. It's a nice easy air between him and Oliver is just brightening his life up a little bit at a time.

"Oh please try this one, I made it just for you, well I made them all for you, but this one especially!" Oliver speaks with a sparkle, holding up a tiny cake in his fingers for Arthur to take. Arthur raises an eyebrow at it, then smirks for a second. He leans forward and opens his mouth, nearly laughing himself when Oliver giggles too hard and nearly drops the treat he made. It's coffee flavored, a hint of bourbon. Damn delicious too.

"Thank you for inviting me over," Oliver says happily, holding his teacup close to him and enjoying the warmth being spread to his hands. Arthur smiles gently at him and Oliver's chest bubbles up.

"How have your days been?" Arthur asks, moving some of their empty dishes to the sink. Oliver launches into a quick paced spiel about how Francois apologized for his past actions and how his boys have been hanging out and getting along much more than normal. All in all he's been amazing, and now Arthur is there too. Arthur smiles over his shoulder at him, noticing something odd.

"Is that a new one?" He asks, coming closer and gesturing to the white bow tie with tiny blue polka-dots around Oliver's neck. The ginger haired man jolts at the question firmly blushing. He plays with the folds.

"No it's, just a fancy one, for special occasions," He admits, smiling at him. Arthur smiles back, having a small elation at being considered a special occasion.

"Uhm," Oliver perks up, sitting a little straighter. Arthur tilts his head to the side. He steps back and watches as Oliver goes to his basket and pulls a dark green cloth from it.

"May I?" He asks, still a bit of a blush on his cheeks. Arthur can feel himself blushing at the words, but finds himself nodding and then being utterly baffled at the beaming smile sent his way. Somewhere along the lines his thoughts have left him as Oliver steps forward and works the bow tie around his neck. Arthur watches Oliver's face with his tongue slightly stuck out as he folds the cloth around him. He does his best not to forget to breathe. Oliver is absolutely breathtaking in ways Arthur did not even think of before. He swallows thickly when Oliver finally backs away and the dark green bowtie is situated around his neck.

Oliver is doing his best to hold in his squeals, covering his face and practically shaking in his spot at the adorableness that is Arthur in a bow tie. Oh he looks so handsome and Oliver is having a hard time containing himself. Eventually Arthur rolls his eyes and opens his arms, allowing Oliver to crash right into him and wiggle up against him for a snuggle.

"Oh it's so cute!" He exclaims excitedly bouncing in his spot. Arthur chuckles just a little, rubbing a hand up and down Oliver's back. Oliver pulls back to smile at him, melting into giggles soon after. Arthur stares at him then leans down to kiss his cheek. Oliver makes a small squeak and freezes, staring at Arthur like he's grown another head. Arthur is glaring to the side, a right blush on his cheeks, one that grows when Oliver peppers his face with tiny kisses.

"Stop it!" He says, though there is no malice in his voice, and Oliver does not stop anyway. Instead he giggles and places a few more light kisses on Arthur's cheeks. Arthur groans and pushes at him. It does nothing. Finally he sighs and reaches his hands up to quickly grab Oliver's cheeks and pulls him close, kissing him quickly where it counts.

"Stop it," Arthur whispers against his lips when he pulls back, a smug tone in his voice at having silenced his other. Oliver is staring at him with stars in his eyes. Oh and if he doesn't bounce even more when what just happened fully registers in his mind. He throws his arms decidedly around Arthur's neck and pulls him close, placing more light kisses on his lips in happiness. Arthur protests, but it's nothing. He knows it's nothing, so he lets Oliver do as he pleases. It's not unpleasant in the slightest.

After wanting Arthur to be happy for so long, and realizing that he is the way to make that happen, fills Oliver with a happiness he never had before. With the smiles Arthur gives him, he can't stop the small happy tears dripping down his cheeks. Arthur brushes them away, a soft laugh coming from him. He's been wanting Oliver to smile for so long, and to be able to see him do so, in such a natural and real way, because of him? Arthur leans down to kiss Oliver again. It's more than anything.

* * *

 **AN:** Much needed fluff, hope you enjoyed~

 **PS:** America has veggie burgers, Canada has red velvet pancakes, petition to make England's food shipping name tea cakes(hence the title).

 **Disclaimer:** Hetalia ain't no belong to me.


	8. The Next Meeting

"Please Arthur?" Oliver asks, holding tightly to Arthur's hands. He bites his lip as Arthur once again grimaces. It's a lot he's asking and he knows it but this needs to happen. Arthur sighs and nods his head in submission. Oliver squeals and hugs him tightly, giggling slightly when Arthur hugs him back instantly. Oliver pulls him along to the entrance of the meeting hall. Standing just outside the doors like they usually do, is their boys. Alfred is laughing loudly with his arm wrapped possessively around Al's shoulder while Matt and Matthew are holding hands. Oliver gives Arthur an encouraging smile. He goes behind him and pushes lightly to get him to go closer.

When they're acknowledged, the younger nations freeze in their spots. It's very noticeable the way Alfred pulls Al closer and the way Matt narrows his eyes despite barely ever changing his expression. Matthew on the other hand, has always been better with manners.

"Hello Arthur, Oliver," He greets. Oliver smiles brightly from over Arthur's shoulder, giving him one last little push to do exactly what he should have done months ago.

"Hello, ah," Arthur starts, glaring at the ground. Oliver squeezes his hand. Arthur takes a deep breath and stands tall like the gentleman he tries to be, regarding Al with a serious expression. Alfred glares, ready to pull Al away from anything Arthur might have to say.

"I owe you an apology," Arthur says simply. Oliver bites his lip in happiness, not only at Arthur sucking up his pride to admit he's wrong, but the utterly baffled expression on Al's face.

"Huh?" Is all Al manages to say. Alfred is gaping like a fish, sharing his disbelief with Matthew. Arthur takes another deep breath.

"It was wrong of me to judge you so harshly when you clearly make Alfred happy. And-" Arthur cuts off to glance over his shoulder at Oliver nearly crying. He smiles quickly at his other, then turns back to their sons.

"I'm sorry," He finishes. He gives a quick nod and walks away with Oliver's hand in his. Oliver wipes away his tears, his smile overpowering his face. Arthur pulls him along, leading the way towards a random hallway.

"Come on poppet," He whispers quietly, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing at his face. Oliver giggles more, placing a hand over Arthur's to hold it close to his cheek. Arthur smiles softly at him.

"Thank you," Oliver whispers to him. Arthur scoffs like it's no big deal, but he knows it means the world to Oliver. He will have to do more in order to make it up to their sons, but this is a start. This ridiculous spat drew a rift between them, between them all, and it's in the beginning stages of being mended now. Oliver wraps his arms around Arthur, ignoring the way he protests being in public indecently. It doesn't stop him from leaning down when Oliver pulls away to kiss his cheek though.

When they walk into the meeting room with their arms linked together, it's only completely silent for a few moments. Oliver is a little preoccupied and so is Arthur, both smiling at each other. With a lot of confusion the meeting starts.

* * *

Apologizing had to be the right thing. It just had to be. Arthur peeks to the side at Oliver with a bright smile on his face, kicking his legs back and forth under the table, and taking notes. He hasn't seen the ginger so happy in a long time. At first when Oliver asked him to apologize, Arthur didn't want to, mainly because he didn't know how. What could he have said to make it up to their sons. He's happy he tried though, for Oliver's sake if anything.

He raises and eyebrow, not recognizing the freckles on his other's face. He glances down to his handkerchief in his pocket. There's make up on it. Despite himself Arthur smiles. He writes on an index card that he likes the freckles and slides it over to Oliver. He also smirks when Oliver puffs up in a blush.

He leans back in his seat when Alfred and Al begin to talk about their plan to help raise environmental awareness. Arthur finds himself sitting smug. Alfred has grown up a fine nation. Maybe he had been a little too harsh on him. He's not a stupid nation, eccentric obviously, but not stupid. Though Arthur doesn't like to admit it, Alfred can make his own decisions, and he really has no right to interfere. Not after what happened.

He turns to Oliver again, with stars in his eyes, proud as can be at the speech Al is pulling off well. Arthur reaches out and runs the back of his hand down Oliver's cheek, startling him. Oliver giggles softly and leans into the touch. Apologizing had to be the right thing to do. He probably wouldn't be so happy in this moment if it wasn't.

* * *

"So what are you going to do with that spell you made?" Oliver asks back in his room. Arthur hums from his spot at the tiny table. He puts down his tea cup and faces the ceiling.

"Don't know," He says. Oliver twists up his nose in a pout. That hadn't been the answer he hoped for.

"You're not going to get rid of it?" He pushes. He hears Arthur chuckle lightly.

"No, we might need it eventually." Oliver spins from the stove quickly to face his other. Arthur is looking back at him with a neutral expression that slowly turns to a grimace. Oliver wrings his hands around a towel.

"What if someone finds out? Or the dimensions don't hold well?" Arthur asks with worry in his voice, standing from his seat to walk over to him. Oliver sighs. Arthur doesn't intend to keep it in order to close the portal for malice, just out of future possible reason. He can handle that.

"It will be hidden in one of my spell books back home," Arthur tells him. He grabs one of Oliver's hands and kisses the back of it like they used to back in the medieval ages. Oliver still blushes like a maid like he used to back then. Arthur pulls him into a soft hug that Oliver quickly turns snuggly.

"I talked to Francois a little earlier," Oliver comments when he's just about done making their dinner. Arthur hmms sipping at his tea and letting Oliver fill the tiny hotel with delicious smells. He's only a little bitter about Oliver being a better cook than him but it's hard to complain when his mouth is full of food.

"He said a few other nations are now accepting their situations because of us," Oliver smiles over his shoulder. A smile that grows when Arthur gives him a confused expression.

"They didn't accept it when Kiku got with his other?" Arthur questions. Oliver shrugs with a giggle. Arthur copies his shrug and lets it go. It's no mind to him.

"What are we to each other?" Oliver asks suddenly, striding across the space between them to hold Arthur's hands in his. Arthur sputters for a moment.

"Well," Words are hard to come by though. Oliver whimpers a little and squeezes his hands tighter.

"Whatever we need to be I guess," Arthur says lamely. Oliver giggles and brings his hands up and nuzzles them to his cheeks. It may have been a lacking answer but it works for Oliver, and that works for them both. Arthur smiles up at him. Letting his stubbornness go, just might have been, one of the best ideas he's ever taken into account. But opening a portal to a new world, may have been his best accident yet.

* * *

 **AN:** Better late than never, good job Artie. Hope you enjoyed~

 **PS:** This is the last chapter to this story in the _Infatuation_ series. Up next will be the beginning of the 2-shot after series, starting with 1px2p Japan, "Meeting Kisses."

 **Disclaimer:** Hetalia ain't no belong to me.


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